Artemis
by Erin7
Summary: Hrm. Wrote it a while ago, but noticed it should be in this genre. Descriptive re-telling of a familiar myth about Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt


The silver moon rose pale and full against the purple night sky, casting a soft glow of light through a canopy of trees. Artemis and her train of wood nymphs loped gaily through the forest, flanked by a pack of swift greyhounds. Their footsteps made no sound, nor imprint in the soft earth. Merry laughter drifted through the trees, floating up above the leafy branches and into the night air, tossed lazily back and forth by a gentle breeze. The night smelled warm and faintly of wildflowers, oddly quiet, save for the voices of the nymphs and the murmur of the wind brushing through the leaves. Gnarled roots of ancient trees curled almost possessively about the forest floor, plotting to trip any unwelcome intruders. The dark-haired goddess and her band, however, sprung lightly over the roots without trouble. In fact, the roots seemed nearly to recede as they came by, as not to offer any inconvenience.  
  
Ahead, silhouetted against the night, a slender doe stood, nibbling daintily at the grass growing between a pair of large oaks. As the company approached, her ears perked forward, cautiously, head lifting to glance quickly around in search of danger. Artemis waved her entourage to silence. The nymphs slipped behind trees, and the dogs crouched obediently out of view. The deer, not spotting anything threatening, bent back over to graze once again. Artemis lifted her great bow and drew an arrow from her quiver, notching it expertly to the bow. It was a large bow, crafted flawlessly of supple wood with a strong cord stretched taut across the ends. It looked to heavy for a woman of her stature, but closer inspection of the goddess revealed the sinewy muscles that rippled along her moderate frame. She took careful aim and let the arrow fly, watching it imbed itself in the breast of the deer. The doe did not crumple immediately, but first cast a wild, frightened glance 'round. She then fell, head thrown back at an awkward angle. Her brown eyes were still open, and wide with terror. Artemis whistled, sharply. The pack pounced upon the deer, ripping out her throat with a brutality not usually characteristic of greyhounds. The doe shuddered and went limp. All the hounds dragged the corpse off into the shadows, except one, the goddess' favorite. He slunk to her side and lay down, licking his mistress' bare toes contentedly. She tucked the bow under her arm, and reached down to scratch the dog's head fondly.  
  
Artemis straightened, whistling again to the greyhound and beginning a light, distance-eating run with the beast at her heels, and the body of wood nymphs not far behind. Eventually, they reached a moonlit clearing in the trees, in the center of which lay a clear pool. The goddess laid her bow and quiver along the bank. Her soft gray tunic soon joined them, and she slid serenely into the cool water. The goddess' favorite sat tranquilly at the edge of the water, watching his mistress. The wood nymphs settled in and about the deep forest pool, diving, splashing, laughing, and sending silver ripples outward upon the water's surface. One waded to Artemis' side, freeing her raven hair from the confines of its encasement and allowing it to tumble, liberated, upon her alabaster-pale shoulders. The nymph combed her fingers through the waves of the dark hair crimped from being twisted up on her head. Artemis endured this patiently, watching the last of the evening's fireflies flutter upward into the soft darkness of the night, dulled by the silvered glow of the moon. Her fingers moved absently to her forehead, tracing the painted crescent moon on her brow.  
  
The stillness of the night was interrupted by the call of a hunting horn and baying of bloodhounds somewhere off in the distance. The cry of the hounds ended abruptly, as if the prey had been brought down and they had set upon it. A hush once more fell over the woods. Silver laughter trilled once more from the nymphs, after having paused briefly at the clamor of the distant hunt. Artemis glanced off into the trees once, before shaking her head slowly and pulling away from the nymph, diving underwater and gliding to the far end of the pool. She stood up again, wiping the water off her face with her hands and wading absently up the side of the bank.  
  
Without warning, a young hunter called Actaeon entered the clearing, flanked by a pack of hounds. Startled at the sight of the bathing goddess and her nymphs, he should have immediately run for his life, yet he stayed, entranced. The nymphs cast tentative glances back and forth between themselves, fearing their mistress' reaction. Artemis turned pale with fury, but her expression was calm and controlled. A nymph threw her tunic about the goddess' bare shoulders, quickly. Artemis cupped her palms, dipping them into the water. She lifted her hands to her lips and blew, sending the water in a light rain of droplets to sprinkle Actaeon. As soon as the water touched him, he began to transform, taking the shape of a white stag. The stag caught a glimpse of his reflection in the clear pool, starting violently. His eyes were the only part of him that remained human: large, twilight-gray and sagacious. His own hounds turned on him savagely, enticed by his tangible fear. Swiftly, they brought him down. A slow smile crept across Artemis' lips. 


End file.
